Omnia Vincit Amor
by LostinOblivion
Summary: It should have been expensive food, more expensive wine, boring speeches, and shmoozing, but the FBI Ceremonies Dinner became something entirely different.
1. Chapter 1

"How're you doing in there, Emily?" Lia called through her friend's bedroom door.

"One more second, and I'll have everything on," she called back.

"Everything? What the hell did you two shop for?" Cheryl frowned, clearly confused.

"She picked out something special for under her dress."

"I'm sure Matt will be happy."

"He better, it wasn't cheap." Emily finally came out of the room, straightening a dress strap.

"I don't think you need to worry," Cheryl smirked. She couldn't imagine Matt not enjoying his girlfriend in lingerie.

"Thanks, beautiful dress, by the way." She nodded to the sleek, angle-length strapless dress of dark emerald encasing her boss.

"Thanks, yours too." Emily's dress was a deep, almost burnt purple, knee length with thicker straps that were part of the V-neckline.

Both addresses accentuated their curves, though Emily's also gave the effect of very long legs. Lia went the more playful route, with what was more or less a cocktail dress. It was black and white, and ceased being sleek at her waist, where it poofed out a little until it stopped at her knees.

"See Lia, I told you those shoes would work, it looks great. Duff will swallow his tongue." Emily grinned.

"I'm not wearing it for Duff," she insisted, blushing. They'd only been on a few dates with no sex, tonight she wanted Duff unable to resist.

"Sure you're not," Cheryl said.

"Alright, I need to do make-up, what time is it?" Emily shook herself back to business.

"Six-thirty, you've got ten minutes, so you better hurry," Lia said.

"Damn corset," Emily mumbled, charging into her bathroom.

"Uh, more information than I needed, Emily," Cheryl called helplessly.

In ten minutes their dates would arrive at Emily's apartment, where they'd decided to be girly and get ready together. Tonight was the annual FBI Ceremonies Dinner, where they gaped at their coworkers in formal-wear, congratulated those honored for whatever reason, and ate expensive, hard to identify foods off over-priced china. Obviously, Matt was taking Emily, Duff was taking Lia, and Cheryl surprised everyone by deciding to go on the arm of her CIA friend. She still owed him, and his chosen payment was dinner, though he didn't specify anything about the dinner. Cheryl took complete advantage.

Emily was struggling to get on her eyeliner thinly when the doorbell sounded, and nearly made her screw up. "If that's Matt tell him that he's going to have to wait a minute!"

"It's Duff, don't worry! I'll see you there, Em!" Lia called, as she raced out the door on the arm of the young HRT agent. He cleaned up nice, and matched Lia black and white to black and white.

Emily was walking out of her bathroom the second time the doorbell rang, and Cheryl introduced her to Special Agent Scott Cooper of the CIA. Unfortunately, Cheryl picked green and he matched his shirt to her, giving him—with the red hair—a leprechaun look. He didn't seem to mind though, as he led her out the door.

Emily grabbed her clutch and fell onto her couch exhausted from the marathon of getting ready after work but in time for the dinner. Fortunately, she'd decided not to screw with her hair and just let it naturally curl. Actually none of them had messed much with their hair, both Lia and Cheryl left theirs straight and down. Who had the time?

After ten minutes of waiting, Emily started to get nervous. How could he possibly be late? All he had to do was shower, throw on his suit, and comb his hair. How complicated did that get? Perfume! She forgot perfume, and raced back to her bedroom to apply the expensive Italian fragrance she saved for formal occasions like these. The clock continued ticking, and getting dangerously close to seven.

Five minutes to and phone in her hand, there it was finally, the doorbell went off for the third time.

"Where the hell have you been, we're going to be late?" Emily demanded, opening the door.

There was Matt, looking very apologetic with a small bouquet of white lilies and red roses in his hands.

"I drove halfway here and realized that I forgot to get flowers," he explained.

"You didn't have to get me flowers."

"One thing my old man taught was that you never show up at a women's house in a suit without flowers in your hand."

"Even for a work function?"

"You don't know my old man," Matt said shaking his head.

If there was one thing Flannery Sr. wasn't shy about teaching his boys, it was about how to treat a woman. He loved their mother more than anything, and made sure his boys knew that, that was what was important.

"Well then, thank you." Emily smiled and kissed him, leaning into him. Matt wrapped his arms around her and held her closer, noticing something interesting.

"You have something underneath that dress," he stated when they broke apart.

Emily just grinned, and retreated to her kitchen with the flowers.

* * *

"Where the hell have you two been? They've already started giving out commendations. Duff just got one for jumping in that laundry shoot," Cheryl whispered at Matt and Emily as they slid quietly into seats beside her.

They looked toward the stage where a very serious Duff stood among several other men and women holding certificate-looking folios. Emily turned toward Lia, who's eyes hadn't moved from her date, and grinned, nudging Matt. He looked over, and offered his girlfriend an unimpressed look. Guys just don't find things like that cute.

"Sorry, we'll explain later," Emily whispered to Cheryl.

"Thank you, Ladies and Gentlemen for your courageous efforts," Assistant Director Kirby Daniels spoke to the agents on stage and led them in a round of applause.

The ceremony went on and on for another forty-five minutes, in which Frank received a special leadership commendation, and a whispered promise from the AD of a pay raise. He'd earned it the last several years, as Cheryl and the other SAC's only had good things to say about him.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, we'd like to honor two of our agents, who've been partnered the last two years. Washington has chosen two of LA's agents to receive Medals for Meritorious Achievement, so to present those, Deputy Director Kersh," Daniels announced, stepping aside.

An older man they all knew as their boss's, boss's, boss's, boss, right below the director himself, took the microphone, cleared his throat and began.

"Washington has been watching these two Agents since their SAC paired them, and we haven't been disappointed. The top of their field, they've navigated numerous life or death situations, and come out successful time and again. More than once their own lives have been in jeopardy, and they haven't balked. And—though obviously against policy—they've both put their lives on the line, to save the lives of others. So please join me, thanking and congratulating Special Agents Matt Flannery and Emily Lehman of the Crisis Negotiation Unit for their courage and bravery," he finished calmly, clapping his hands.

Cheryl smiled and nudged her two wide-eyed friends toward the stage. They hadn't known this was coming, but as their supervisor she'd been consulted as to their merit and recommended them whole-heartedly.

Once out of their seats, Matt and Emily managed to wander through the tables amidst applause and reach the stage. Like a gentleman, Matt assisted his girlfriend, partner, and now fellow medal recipient up the steps.

Kersh handed the still surprised agents small wooden boxes with metals displayed elegantly on ribbons, as all three smiled for the cameras. Neither were much for attention, but smiled pleasantly, accustomed to faking it for the press. They were finally released, and walked back down the steps to more applause, which died abruptly, allowing someone's words to carry loudly through the hall.

"Yeah, now if only they could stay out of each other's pants."

Everyone went dead silent, leaving two once again stunned, and now embarrassed negotiators to maneuver through the tables back to their own. Daniels took to the microphone again.

"Well folks, we can't expect everything now can we?" He asked, earning the crowds laughter.

Back at their table, Matt and Emily were trying to melt into the floor, and their friends were cracking up.

* * *

"Your agents seem more interested in each other than in their awards," Scott pointed out, as he and Cheryl walked around mingling. A few agents knew him, but many gave Cheryl strangle looks when she mentioned he was CIA.

Cheryl followed his gaze toward Matt and Emily, who were still at the table, facing each other and completely focused on their conversation. They were both smiling too, something she was used to seeing when she walked by their cubicle. If they weren't turned into their computers, they were facing each other, smiling, and talking. Scott was right, and that didn't surprise her one bit.

"That's because they are more interested in each other."

"That doesn't worry you?" If two of his subordinates were so obviously taken with each other, they wouldn't be partners.

"They were just given honors from Washington, why should I be worried?"

"You have a point. They just seem…"

"Happy together?"

"Yeah, that works," Scott nodded.

"I was partnered with Matt five years, and I don't think he smiled as much in all five as he has the last two," Cheryl said.

"Good for them. Now, how about you and I dance?" He grinned, he figured Cheryl would turn him down in five seconds.

"Dance? Sure," she grinned, and grabbed his hand, leading the surprised CIA agent off.

"You know, I still want to know what's under that dress," Matt whispered close to Emily's ear.

"Do you now?"

"Very much."

"You think we have a shot at getting away?" She asked, grinning.

"If you're serious, I will make sure we do."

"I'm serious." Two little words and a smile was all she needed, and she knew Matt would get them out of there.

It wouldn't be easy, people had been coming to their table to congratulate them all night, but he would most definitely find a way. He wasn't the only one that would rather be naked in a hotel room than sitting in the dining room, waiting for cake and coffee. The place was so huge, if people came looking for them, they'd just keep looking. All they had to do was actually get away.

"Alright, I've got a plan. You head toward the bathroom, powder your nose or whatever, and I'll get a room, and meet you outside," Matt suggested.

"Powder my nose?" Emily raised an eyebrow.

"Or whatever," he stressed.

"Alright, but be quick getting the room, I can only hang out in the bathroom so long," she said.

"What are you two whispering about over there?" Frank asked from across the table, having been watching his two friends whisper and grin at each other for ten minutes.

"Dirty thoughts, Frank," Emily said, smiling.

Frank rolled his eyes. "Why did I even bother asking, I could have guessed that."

Emily just smiled, as she got up and left for the ladies room.

Matt sat patiently as Frank's attention was diverted back on to his date, and Lia and Duff got up to dance. Grabbing their medals, he dodged one of their superiors heading his way, and made it to the lobby with minimal evasive maneuvering.

"Sir?" The young woman at the desk asked.

"Uh, I'd like a room for tonight." He looked around the lobby, hoping no one from the Bureau saw him.

"What kind of room?"

"Regular room, two adults…" Matt tried, not sure what she meant. He began to fidget.

"King or Queen bed?"

"King." May as well, right?

"Alright, that's $320," she said, taking his offered credit card, ignoring that he was growing even more fidgety.

After five minutes, she presented him with two receipts and his credit card. Matt hurriedly signed one, grabbed the other, his card, and the key card she handed him, and practically leapt away from the desk. He power-walked to the ladies room, just in time to see Emily coming out, and swept her against his chest.

"Smooth, did you get the room?" She asked, not to be distracted from their mission.

"Yep, 710, elevators over there, let's hurry before someone sees us."

The two agents rushed over to the elevator bank, where Matt began jamming the button until the car came. They dove in together, watched the doors close, and managed to stop fidgeting. They were safe. No one could stop them now.

They refrained from groping each other in the elevator—barely—and walked, cuddled closely, down the hallway of the seventh floor until they hit room number ten. For once, the key went in and unlocked the door without a fight, and Matt had the presence of mind to hang the 'Do Not Disturb' tag on the door.

That was the end of their self-control.

Everything in their hands fell to the floor, and they pressed against each other in a flurry of kisses and caresses. While pressing his body into hers, Matt unzipped Emily's dress down to her ass, which he found happily to be bare. He ran his hands from her ass up her back, before easing the dress from her shoulders. Emily worked it the rest the way down, until it was on the floor, and she could step out of it.

Matt swallowed. The woman he loved stood in front of him, wearing blue-grey and black lacey bustier, matching thong, garters and stockings, and her three-inch heels that put them at the same height.

"I've died and gone to heaven," he blurted.

"Come here." She smiled and gestured him with a finger.

Emily pressed her body against his, moving ever so slightly against that one special part until she heard him moan. Then she pulled away just enough to begin working calmly on his shirt buttons. Matt worked much less calmly on his pants, forgetting about his shoes as he pulled them down, and nearly sending them both to the floor. Emily giggled and kissed him, as she eased his shirt off, leaving it to fall to the floor with his jacket and tie.

She pushed him against the bed until he fell back, enjoying having all the control. Matt actually seemed a little overwhelmed by her…attire. She enjoyed that feeling, knowing the effect she had on him. Watching him struggle to swallow and breathe, seeing him stare at her in unbridled lust, that was a better aphrodisiac than anything she could imagine.

Matt laid on his back, completely at the mercy of the beautiful woman straddling him. Normally, he liked control, they tended to vie for it, but right then, he had no desire to take it from her. Emily leaned in over him, and Matt gasped; he didn't think he'd ever been quite as turned on as he was then.

They began to kiss and touch, growing more heated with every little bit of contact. They were the only two people in the room, but they may as well have been the only two people in the world. Emily moaned as Matt pressed against her, between her legs, the soft cotton of his boxer-briefs rubbing against her thighs. They were so focused, so intent on each other, neither heard the soft little ding from the lock.

They didn't hear the door open either, but they did hear it close.

* * *

_This story will be about three chapters, a short little divergence from Falling. Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

Matt and Emily flew up at the sound of the door slamming shut, spell of passion now long gone. There was a man standing before them, an angry man dressed in casual clothing. There was a knit cap on his head, brown fuzz on his face, and wild fury in his eyes.

"Who the hell are you, what do you want?" Matt demanded.

"You two," the man said, pulling a large handgun from his jacket.

Matt pushed Emily behind him, she'd yell at him later for it, but right now, he only wanted her safe.

"Alright, how about you put the gun away, and tell us what we did to piss you off?" Matt asked.

"First you both move to the back of the bed, keep your hands where I can see them."

Matt and Emily did as they were told, inching back toward the head board, keeping their hands in front of them. They were half-naked, but they tried to ignore that.

Suddenly, there was shuffling in the hallway, people were rushing down it, presumably away from their rooms. The negotiators didn't look at each other, but Emily fished around for Matt's hand and took it. They didn't have their guns, their phones were lying in their clothes on the floor, and there was a crazy man with a gun pointed at them. Tonight certainly wasn't going to end the way they planned, but more importantly, when it ended, it might really end for them.

* * *

"What's going on?" Cheryl asked AD Kirby Daniels, as she stopped him amidst the rush of people heading toward and out the lobby doors.

"Hostage situation, woman at the lobby said a guy had a gun, we're evacuating. Where's your dream team, we need them?"

"No idea, I haven't seen them for a while. Where's this guy with the guy?"

"I was looking for you before we questioned the woman at the counter. Come here." He pulled her, and Scott with her, over toward the lobby counter.

"Elise, what did he ask for?"

"He wanted the key to a room, 710."

"Why? Who's the room registered to?" Cheryl demanded.

The young, frightened woman typed the information into her computer, and waited for the information to come up. "Oh, I just registered him."

"Who? Who did you register?" Cheryl leaned in toward her.

"Matt Flannery."

"What?"

"Matt Flannery, dark hair, dark eyes, nice looking, but I saw him go into the elevator with a woman, a redhead I think." The Clerk's frightened eyes darted between Cheryl and Daniels.

"Yeah, she was a redhead…shit." Cheryl turned away, worried and pissed all at once.

They snuck up stairs to have sex, and ended up taken hostage? Only Matt and Emily.

"I guess we aren't using your dream team," Daniels said.

"Oh, they're up there right now trying to negotiate with him, I promise you that."

"I don't know, they've got to be pretty freaked."

"Trust me, Kirby. Those two do not freak easily."

"Even mid-coitus?"

"I never tested them that way, but their minds will be on how best to keep the other one alive. That more than anything will keep them grounded."

"If you say so, but we still need negotiators down here."

"Binder! Find your partner, I need you for this negotiation," Cheryl flagged down one of her second best team.

"Who's the hostage, and where's the HT?" He jogged over to her, after gesturing his wife out the door.

"The HT is in room 710, and there's two hostages…Matt and Emily." She stared at him, waiting for it to sink in.

"What? Seriously?" He looked at them wide-eyed.

"Yes."

"Flannery and Lehman snuck away for a booty call?"

"So not the point right now," she scolded him.

"Right, I'll find Jimmy." He ducked away, rushing off to find his partner.

"He's got a point you know. They received the highest honors tonight, and then disappeared to get laid," Daniels pointed out.

"I assume they were celebrating." Cheryl shrugged, and Scott laughed beside her.

* * *

"Are you going to tell us what we did to piss you off, or should we guess?" Matt couldn't help but be nasty.

"They gave these to you two tonight?" The HT asked, holding up the awards.

"Yeah, we do a good job," Emily said.

"Then how come my brother is dead?" He advanced angrily on them. It took all their resolve not to shrink away.

"Who's your brother?"

"Dylan Calloway."

Matt looked toward Emily, not immediately recognizing the name. She did.

"He walked into the manager's offices of a Walmart and threatened to blow the place to kingdom come. We tried to talk him out of there, but he wouldn't come, so our snipers shot him. His death was his own fault, not ours." Emily glared at him.

"Those bastards stole his sweat and labor and paid him by denying him proper medical coverage and laying him off when he bitched about it. They should have been shot, not Dylan."

"I won't argue that the company treated him badly, but there were innocent people he took hostage, people just like him, working for shitty wages, and even shittier benefits," she insisted.

"I don't give a crap about them. My brother deserved better! He didn't deserve to be shot by you people!"

"I'm sure he didn't, but when he refused to release those people, he forced our hand. We decided those people didn't deserve to die, people who never threatened anyone's life," Emily insisted, squeezing Matt's hand to maintain her calm.

The room phone rang and startled them all.

"What?" The HT snatched it angrily, silencing it.

"You can call me Bill." He paused.

"Yeah, I've got them."

"No, you can't have them." Silence.

"You storm in here, and I'll blow their fucking brains all over these walls! You feel me, Jimmy?" He paused, breathing slightly labored.

"What I want is justice for my baby brother! These two killed him, and they have to answer for it!"

"Oh, I don't know, I figured I'd just kill them." Silence.

"Well damn, Jimmy? You don't say? Here I was thinking, you'd just say okay, and let me decorate this room with their insides." He maintained his sarcasm, smiling at his hostages as he mentioned their insides.

"Yeah, you do that. Uh huh, I'll think about it. Half an hour." He slammed the phone down, missing the hook, and having to fix it.

"I suppose you two know Jimmy then?" He turned to them.

"Yeah, he's a friend." Matt answered.

"He says he's going to see what they can do to arrange punishment for you two, but he isn't going to arrange a damn thing. Your boys are at the end of this hallway, though. That means, one of you gets to go, and I kill the other one of you…" He paused and studied them, then smiled widely. "I'll let you two pick."

"What if we refuse to choose?" Emily asked quickly.

"Then I'll shoot one of you, and then try and get the other before they storm in here." He let them think that over, watching them shift uncomfortably. Then he smiled again.

"So, who gets to die?"

* * *

"How are we doing here?" AD Kirby Daniels asked Cheryl, who was chatting with her negotiators.

They were all still in their evening wear, though the guys had removed their ties and undone a couple buttons. Only HRT changed out of their suits and into their specialized uniforms. Frank and a handful were with Cheryl, and her negotiators at stairs end of the hallway, closer to the room. Duff was with another handful on the other end near the elevators, and a few were scattered in the surrounding rooms, investigating breach possibilities. Cheryl sent Scott home with a promise to call when it was all over.

"He targeted Matt and Emily, he's pissed because he thinks they killed his little brother," Jimmy Temple filled the AD in.

"Well, who's his brother?"

"We don't know, I have Lia working on her computer trying to find that information." Cheryl resisted rolling her eyes at Kirby. "We're assuming he's an HT."

"Have you spoken to Flannery or Lehman yet?"

"No, it was a very quick conversation," Jimmy offered.

"Then how do we know they're even still alive?" The AD frowned, if the negotiators were already dead, they should just send HRT in to take the bastard out.

"I was about to call back for proof of life, wanted to give him a chance to calm down, and we need a way to punish them."

"Who?"

"Flannery and Lehman." Temple shifted, and sighed unhappily.

"That's what this clown is asking for?"

"Yeah, why we think they're still alive too."

"Alright, tell him they go on disciplinary leave as soon as he releases them, no pay, no benefits, no nothing. We'll investigate his brother's death, and decide or not to reinstate them." The AD rubbed his hand on his neck, and looked to Cheryl.

She nodded her head. She liked it, it gave them something to offer, but what if he didn't buy it? And, chances are he wouldn't release them together, what did they have to negotiate with? "His freedom."

"What?" Binder looked at her quizzingly.

"We offer him this for one of them, we offer leniency for the second one." She attempted to yank her dress up discretely; strapless dresses were not made for crisis negotiation.

"That could work." Temple nodded enthusiastically.

Cheryl suddenly had a thought, and let her head go limp. "Shit."

The three men turned toward her once again. Kirby looked stressed as he spoke. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure that they'll any way except together."

"What do you mean?" Her boss frowned.

"If he lets one of them go, Matt will volunteer to protect Emily. Emily won't leave him alone in there, she won't be able to." Cheryl cursed under her breath.

Temple and Binder exchanged a look, and then shook their heads. She was right, their colleagues were going to be a pain in the ass to get released.

The AD was a little slow. "I get Flannery, but why wouldn't Lehman be able to leave?"

"Would you leave your girlfriend in there with an armed maniac?"

"No, of course not."

"There you go." Cheryl turned a circle, frowning, thinking, and finally stopped and breathed into her hands, struggling to reason everything out. She suddenly held up her hands, startling the me, who'd fallen back into conversation. "They are both smart, and will know what needs to be done. Make the call, insist on talking to one of them, offer the punishment, and we'll go from there."

Temple nodded, and yelled to Lia, who was typing furiously on a laptop feet away from them, to patch him through.

"Yeah, what do you want?" The HT growled into the phone.

"Well Bill, I'd like to speak to one of your hostages," Temple spoke calmly, unhooking another button on his shirt.

"Nope. You can talk to them when I get what I want."

"Bill, I need proof that they're still alive. I only need to talk to one." There was a long silence while their end held their breath.

"Fine. Hang on." They collectively exhaled.

"Hello? Jim?" Emily's voice echoed through the room over the speaker.

"Emily, jesus are you alright?"

"Yes, we're both unharmed…so far."

"We'll get you guys out, I promise. Just sit tight, don't do anything stupid, relay that to Matt, it's Cheryl's orders."

"Sure, I—" Emily was cutoff abruptly, as the HT came back on the phone.

"See, they're fine."

"Thank you, Bill. Listen, we've been thinking out here, and we've decided you're right. There isn't enough accountability on our end of things. My boss's boss has already decided to put Matt and Emily on unpaid leave until we investigate your brother's death. As soon as you give us his name, we can start working on that investigation."

"His name was Dylan, Dylan Calloway."

Temple looked behind himself, toward Lia, who held up a hand. She was already on it, her fingers dancing over the keyboard at what would be a frantic pace to anyone else, but was normal for her.

"Thank you Bill. Now, if we're going to start that investigation, it would help to have Matt and Emily to question. What do you say to letting them go?" Temple held his breath, praying for a quick surrender.

"I say, I'll give you one and you start with that one. I don't know that I believe you'll actually investigate."

Cheryl hung her head, but nodded at Temple. One was better than none, provided the HT could get one to walk out without the other.

"One's good, Bill. We'll take one." He spoke, a little relief flooding through him.

* * *

"Alright, I'll let them pick. Call you when they're ready." He hung up without waiting for a response, and turned back to his hostages. "Like I said, who's going to die?"

"Can we get a minute?" Matt asked, already preparing a speech in his head.

"Sure, I'll just sit over here, but make it quick, I don't want your boys getting itchy." He wondered over to the chair by the door, gun in his lap, watching them out of the corner of his eye.

"I know what you're going to say, and don't, I'm not going." Emily frowned at Matt, her body tense.

"Em, listen to me, okay?" He pled, holding her gently at the waist.

She couldn't say no to the intense look in his eyes, so she didn't. She nodded.

"I love you, in ways I didn't even know you could love someone. One of the things I love most about you is that we're equals, and you never let me forget it. Even when I want to protect you, I know I can trust you to watch my back. I know if I can't figure out the HT, you've picked up whatever I missed. I love that I have to fight you for control in bed, it makes it wild, and incredibly hot. Even at home, what one of us doesn't know, the other inevitably does—like Pine Sol. I'm still not entirely sure what to do with that…"

He tried to make a joke, but Emily wasn't smiling. She had that look on her face, the same look she had while they were down in Mexico. Serious, angry, and sad, the one that nearly broke his heart, and made him realize something she hadn't been ready for.

Matt raised his hands to either side of her face, caressing her soft skin. He moved closer, so that their noses were practically touching, forcing her to see the emotion in his eyes. "I love being your equal, but there are times when I need to be the man. I need to do that now. I know you think they're archaic, but I need you to let me protect you. As the guy, it's my responsibility to protect you and take care of you. Let me do that now, Em. Please, let me keep you safe."

Emily shook her head, tears in her eyes mirroring the ones that shown in his. She raised a hand to his face, brushing her hand over one side. "I can't do that. I can't leave you in here to die. Not when I know as soon as I walk out that door he's going to put a bullet in you. You can't ask me to do that."

"I have to. I know it isn't fair, but only one of us is getting out of here alive. I need it to be you."

"Why? Why does it have to be me?" She didn't wipe at the tear that ran down her cheek, she wanted him to see it. He needed to understand what he was asking of her.

"Because, no real man would let the woman he loves die to save his own life. He'd do everything in his power to make sure she survived, and saw the rest of her life, even if he wasn't in it." His hand trembled against her face. He was scared, he didn't want to die, but protecting Emily was the most important thing to him now.

Emily put her hand over his trembling one. "Yeah, and what kind of woman would let the man she loves die to protect herself?"

Matt blinked, releasing a tear from his eye, and smiled. "The kind well versed in gender roles."

She smiled back. "We both know that's not me."

He pulled her close, and held her tight against his body. They were close enough to feel each other's pounding hearts racing with fear and adrenaline. Emily realized it wasn't just Matt's hand trembling—his whole body coursed with the smallest, almost imperceptible tremor.

"Please Em, I need you to do this for me. Be selfish for once in your life, and walk out of here, and live for both of us. And, if you can't do it for yourself, then do it for me." He kissed the side of her head, nuzzling against her.

Her voice shook like his body. "Matt, do you understand what you're asking of me?"

"Yes, I know. I know it's impossible, but I'm begging you to do this for me. Please."

She felt his tears before she saw them, soaking through her hair and onto her neck and shoulder. She pulled away and looked at him, her own eyes watering. Emily brought his face back toward her, and placed a kiss to his lips, tasting both their salty tears.

Her words came out in a choked whisper. "If I do this, you have to promise me something."

"Anything."

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

"I don't really know. Why?"

She swallowed a shaky breath, her hands holding his face again. "If they exist, if there's anything after this life, you're going to find it. Whatever you have to do, you're going to come back and haunt me. As soon as you figure it out, and then don't leave me for a minute. You have to come to me every night, and lay beside me. You promise me, promise me you'll come back to me."

Her tears had become a hot flood, and Matt's weren't coming much slower. He pulled her mouth back toward his, and put everything he felt in what would likely be their last kiss. Emily threw her all in as well, and they shared one of the best kisses of either of their lives.

When they broke apart, Matt answered breathlessly. "I swear, if there's a way, I'll find it. I'll find you again."

Emily nodded, and then immediately broke, crying into his bare chest. Matt held her firmly, relief flooding his body.

* * *

_Sorry I got another virus on my computer, and as well as being expensive, it delayed my working on things. One more part to this, and I'm actively working on the next chapter of Falling. Thanks for reading and being patient!_

_Slplady, don't worry, I didn't know this phrase offhand, I couldn't think of a title so I googled Latin phrases. This one means, 'Love conquers all'. Though you might appreciate this one, 'Si hoc legere scis nimium eruditionis habes', it means, 'if you can read this,__you're overeducated'. :)_


	3. Chapter 3

"Alright, I've got one coming out now, so tell your boys not to shoot." Bill's sarcastic voice came over the line at Jimmy Temple.

"Okay, we're ready." Temple shot a look at Cheryl, who nodded, and gestured at Frank, to take his team over.

Frank and two HRT agents walked almost silently over toward the door, just as it began to open. Emily walked out, looking disoriented, and unaware of her lack of attire. She closed the door behind her, and looked around until she found the HRT agents right in front of her.

Frank spoke into his mouthpiece. "Cheryl, we've got her. She's half-naked, have someone grab a windbreaker, and uh, get the paramedics ready."

"Why paramedics?" Cheryl's alarmed voice came back at him.

"She looks stoned, I'm thinking shock." His nodded to his men, and they hustled Emily away from the door.

Cheryl met them at the stairs, and helped Emily into a windbreaker that would have fit Frank better. Under the circumstances that wasn't a bad thing, it covered her butt, which had otherwise been exposed—not that she seemed to care.

"Emily?" Cheryl addressed her, but the negotiator didn't respond.

Like Frank had said she look stoned, her eyes completely unfocused on anything. She didn't even seem cold, which she should have been, as her legs were bare except for her stockings. It was as if she wasn't there. Except her red eyes, her sore eyes said she'd been present for something, and cried through it.

Cheryl looked at Frank, who looked somewhere between worried and pissed. If the HT hurt one or both of his friends, he was not going to be gentle taking him down. He wasn't quite thinking what Cheryl was though.

No, when she heard half-naked followed by shock, Cheryl had one particular fear on her mind. When she saw Emily red eyes, it went from a fear to a possibility. Provided he had Matt restrained, it wouldn't have been hard for the HT to…in Emily's lack of attire, it wouldn't have be hard for him to…to violate her. Cheryl shuddered at the thought.

"Emily, talk to me please."

The negotiator didn't make a sound, didn't turn her head.

"Emily, did the HT hurt you? Did he touch you?" Cheryl kept her voice low, no one else needed to hear her questions.

Frank's wide eyes suggested he had though. He went to speak, but Cheryl shook her head. He could be in denial later, right now, Cheryl needed to know what happened in that room.

She was about to ask again when they hear gunshots, two of them.

"Frank, go!"

"Bravo team is a go, Delta team is a go," he announced into his mouthpiece as he took off toward the room, his men behind him, guns drawn.

Emily finally moved on her own. She slid down the wall closest to them, sinking to the floor, tears streaming out her eyes.

Cheryl glanced at her, but couldn't be her friend right then, not with the ongoing crisis. They heard two more shots, followed by three shots from Frank or one of his men. They all knew what HRT guns sounded like.

Binder knelt down beside Emily, who'd pulled her legs up to her chest, and he rested a hand on her shoulder. She didn't flinch, but then, she didn't really acknowledge him at all. She may have moved, may have cried, but she still wasn't really there. He waved over the paramedics, and they tried to talk to her.

Emily ignored them as she had everything else. None of it mattered. She'd walked out of that room, and left him to die. Not a goddamned thing mattered right then. They waved a flashlight in front of her eyes, but she didn't really see it. They took her blood pressure, and for once Emily couldn't feel the cuff squeezing the hell out of her arm. One of the two EMTs asked her questions, but Emily didn't hear any of them.

HRT boots came into her view, and then disappeared with the paramedics. Binder waved a hand in front of her face, but Emily just kept staring at what something he couldn't see.

Brown eyes. Beautiful chocolate brown eyes. If she focused on that one image hard and long enough, she'd never forget it. She needed not to forget it. That image had to last her for the next fifty years.

Brown eyes were suddenly in front of her, not his though. Cheryl's eyes. Her boss and friend was in front of her talking, but Emily didn't hear a word she said. She just kept staring ahead, as if she saw straight through Cheryl's eyes to the back of her head. Then hands were on her arms, and pulling her off the floor.

When would they realize that nobody was home right then?

There was a lot of activity around her, and talking, there was a lot of talking too. It was like a buzz in the back of her head, and the movement, just alternating light and shadows. Lia was suddenly there, looking worried, almost scared. Didn't matter to Emily right then, no one was going to get through to her.

Then someone did.

The brown eyes suddenly weren't just in her head any more, they were in front of her. The skin in between them was wrinkled with worry, as he studied her. She saw his lips then, they were moving, and suddenly, his voice began to break through the barrier in her head.

"Em? Emily?"

How…? Did he keep his promise? Was he a ghost come back to haunt her? Did he really find her already?

She reached out hesitantly, and her fingers brushed his very solid chest. A small gasp escaped her mouth.

Then Cheryl's voice. "Matt, what's wrong with her?"

Her voice squeaked as she managed to whisper. "You're not dead."

Matt shook his head. "He missed."

"How?"

"Turn's out, I'm pretty good at ducking and keeping my ass out of the way."

"Not a single bullet?"

"He was a really shitty shot."

Matt had been on his knees, ready to take a bullet to the back of the head. When he heard the gun cock, he half-leapt, half-rolled the hell out of the way. That was Bill's first two bullets. They went into the floor. The second two went into the wall by the bathroom. The three HRT bullets all made it into Bill.

Suddenly, Emily seemed to lose all her bones, as she fell against him, her face in his shoulder. Fresh tears rolled off the FBI windbreaker Duff had given him to wear, so he wasn't just in boxers. That had been a bit embarrassing, at least for the five minutes until Frank told him that Emily was acting all messed up. After that he wouldn't have noticed if he was naked.

Emily's angry voice suddenly stunned the buzzing hallway into silence, as she pulled away from Matt to look at his face. "You son of a bitch, you ever ask me to do that again, and I'll be the one pulling the trigger on you, so help me god."

"I'm alive," he offered uncomfortably.

"Don't even…" She let her warning trail off. Then she turned to their boss, and spoke as if she hadn't been scarily absent minutes ago. "Cheryl, can we put clothes on before we give our statements?"

"Uh sure, but the paramedics are going to look at both of you." Cheryl wasn't sure what to make of her friend, but really, really wanted a qualified medical person to give her some answers.

Emily nodded, and Cheryl had a couple HRT agents retrieve Emily's dress and Matt's suit from what was now the crime scene. The hotel manager opened an empty room for them to be examined and change in.

Matt helped Emily back into her gown, and she buttoned his shirt for him, while he got his pants back on. Matt slid back into his jacket, but handed the windbreaker back. Emily put her windbreaker back on, hoping to stave off the chill that bit at her bones.

This time she followed the EMT's flashlight, grimaced when the blood pressure cuff clenched around her arm like a vise, and even answered all of his questions. Everything was normal, even her temperature, which he took when she mentioned the chill.

Matt would have done better during his exam, if he'd actually paid attention to the EMT, instead watching Emily. She seemed fine now, but he was worried. She'd been completely non-responsive to everyone, and that wasn't even in the realm of normal. Needless to say, the EMT examining him had to ask him questions repeatedly, but followed his distracted gaze enough to know that he wasn't in shock, just worried about his girlfriend.

He made his way over to her.

"You two going home together tonight?" Emily's EMT asked.

Matt nodded. "Yeah, we will be."

"Good. Alright, Emily, I'm not going to suggest you go to a hospital overnight, because I get the feeling I'd get a hell of an argument. But, you need to rest. If that chill keeps you up, you need to go to a hospital and see a doctor." He turned to Matt. "If she zones-out again, you need to take her to a hospital. Shock is very serious and can be deadly, so if you have any concerns at all—either of you—go to the hospital."

The negotiators nodded obediently, and wandered back out to the hallway. Cheryl was still there, of course, directing the scene, and signing paperwork. The ME's office was finally wheeling the HT out in a black body bag, headed toward the elevators. Duff was off to the side with an arm around Lia, who was dumping a disc into an envelope, and signing the front. Undoubtedly, that was all her intell for the case. Frank was filling out his own paperwork, his men packing away all their gear. Temple and Binder were discussing something, Temple holding a clipboard between them.

It was like the end of every negotiation, clean up time. Everything got packed away, put back in it's rightful spot, papers were filled out and signed, and adrenaline slowly dissipated, leaving the CNU members exhausted. It wasn't really like every negotiation though.

"Hey, how are you?" Cheryl approached them, eyeing Emily nervously.

"I'm fine, sorry if I freaked you out a little."

"Understatement, but don't worry about it. Would you two like to tell me what went on in that room?"

"Before or after we were interrupted by the psycho?" Matt didn't smile at his own joke. His adrenaline was fast dissolving.

"How about you start at when he came in?" She led them over to the makeshift command center, and motioned Temple and Binder over to get their statements.

It was an awkward story to explain, because it began with them having sex. No one wants to talk about their sex life with their coworkers, even when those coworkers were friends. If Matt had been telling Cheryl that Emily was the best he ever had, well that would have been different. At least for him, though probably still awkward for Emily, if she knew.

It got easier for a while, and then hit the mega jackpot of awkward when they got to their discussion. That was a very personal, very emotional conversation for both of them. Sex is uncomfortable to talk about, but some things are more personal, so personal, you don't talk about them with anyone.

They actually had to fill Emily in on what happened when she came out, because she'd been pretty much deaf and blind to everything except the gunshots. Those she still heard echoing through her head. Matt explained how he'd dodged bullets, and managed to survive the HT without one hit.

Finally, finally it was all over. They were given back their awards, which barely escaped becoming evidence, and sent home. They were to relax over the weekend (Cheryl took them off call), and if they needed Monday, they had it. She reminded them that the Bureau had plenty of shrinks, if they should need someone to talk to.

At Matt's apartment, Emily couldn't get her dress or expensive lingerie off fast enough. She never wanted to see it again, afraid of the memories it would carry. Matt got undressed slower, without Emily's hang-ups about his clothing. They both slept naked though. They needed the reassurance of each other's presence, and flesh on flesh was the most basic form of that.

They eventually drifted off to sleep with the sounds of gunshots and tear-strangled promises still echoing in their heads, both knowing they would not be attending another FBI function for a long time.

* * *

_I'm still working on Falling, I swear. I'm just a little blocked concentration-wise right now. Until then, I hope this suffices. Thanks for reading, and please review!_


	4. Chapter 4

_In her wonderfully long review, slplady caught me being lazy with this piece. She was right, it ended abruptly, so forgive me my sloth, and enjoy this unexpected epilogue. Thanks for reading, and reviews are always appreciated!_

* * *

Matt woke to find himself alone in bed, Emily's side gone cold. Alarmed, he raised his head from the pillow, and looked around, searching the room for her. It was still dark, but he could make out her shape, sitting in the chair by the window, her legs drawn up to her body. She'd thrown on her bathrobe, a deep blue satin, and a glass of water sat on the nearby desk. It looked untouched.

He slowly stretched himself out of bed, slipped on a pair of boxers, and meandered over to the window. Emily never gave any indication that she knew he was awake, just stared through the tiny sliver of window visible between the curtain. He rested a hand on her shoulder, and she jerked startled.

She was still shaken from the night, they were both still shaken. Emily faced him now, biting her lip, and her eyes awash in shame, embarrassed that she'd startled so easily. She had known he was there, but his warm fingers had still reacted with her frayed nerves. She took his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together.

"Can't sleep?" Matt's voice broke the silence, startling both of them.

"No, I keep seeing that room, that hotel, that stupid party...and him." She sighed. "That gun is still firing in my head, and I'm still walking out of that room, and leaving you there to die."

"You did what I asked--no, what I begged you to do. Don't feel guilty about that." He nudged her out of the chair, sat himself, and then pulled her back on into his lap. Her legs hung over one side, her head rested on his shoulder, and her arms were around his neck. She picked her head up and looked at him.

"Matt, what if it had been reversed? What if you left me in there, wouldn't you hate yourself?" She hadn't meant to be quite that honest, but there it was.

Matt rested his face against her neck, breathing out tiredly. "Yeah...yeah, I'm pretty sure, I'd hate myself."

"You almost died today."

"I know, but I don't know how to make you feel better about that."

"Jesus Matt, this isn't something you can make me feel better about. I'm not going to get over this night anytime soon, I know that. I just wish I could stop seeing it, and stop hearing. Maybe then I could live with always feeling it." She still had one arm around his neck, but she was sitting straight, looking at him.

"Feeling what?"

She didn't answer, just frowned in confusion.

"Let me rephrase, what is it that you feel?" He tried again.

"You know that feeling you used to get when you were a kid, when you knew you did something really wrong, and were about to get caught? That sick, painful feeling in your stomach?" She asked, her hand gently tracing around her bare chest.

Matt nodded, he remembered that feeling.

"It's like that, but so much worse than I ever remember it feeling. Like every one of those times rolled up into one."

"Ouch, if you were anything like me as a kid, half your childhood was those times," he joked.

Emily cracked a smile. "I don't doubt that for a minute, but I wouldn't say half my childhood, maybe a quarter."

Matt chuckled lightly, and tangled his fingers in her hair. "I love you."

She leaned over and pressed her lips delicately against his, teasing his bottom lip with her tongue. "I love you too."

Matt rested his forehead against hers. "Tell me what I can do to help you."

She leaned back from him abruptly, then smiled. "You already are helping me."

Matt regarded her for several minutes, before finally kissing her deeply. Emily rested her head against his shoulder again, inhaling the scent of his bare skin, one hand resting low on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath his skin.

He tightened his arms around her the tiniest bit, needing the security as much as she did. He didn't think he was as shaken by the night as she was, but still more than he let on. Those bullets flying at him, having that conversation with Emily, making that promise to her...it all went so fast, he hadn't had time to be afraid. But, he wouldn't change his choices. If faced with the same choice again, he'd still do everything in his power to push Emily out that door. That promise he made her was good until the end of time.

Still, it had been close there, for both of them. Closer than he'd like to think about. What if he hadn't dodged those bullets? Would he be wandering around the afterlife now, trying desperately to find a way to become a ghost? If he hadn't gotten Emily out of that room, if she'd refused to budge, would the HT have aimed at her first? He could spend all night thinking up the what ifs, everyone of them hinging on, what if they hadn't been so damned lucky?

Sometimes, Matt felt like he and Emily had nine lives. Machetes, guns, bombs, they'd been threatened with just about everything, often narrowly escaping being killed. If anybody were to ever ask either of them, they would receive a shrug, and comment to the effect that it was part of the job. It wasn't part of the job, not entirely. They'd taken unnecessary risks in the past, and would continue to do so, and hopefully, those nine lives wouldn't run out.

Suddenly, he nudged Emily, who had nearly drifted off. She looked at him in sleepy confusion.

"You know that promise I made you...about coming back?" He asked.

She nodded.

"That promise is good forever."

She swallowed nervously, body tensing. "Why are you telling me that?"

"Because I need to hear you make the same promise. If you...if you go first, you're going to float in through that window, and I'll be waiting in this chair to hold you just like this." His brown eyes had darkened, and now shimmered with passion and need.

Emily raise her hand to his face, letting his fingers slowly dance down his cheek. "I promise."

Matt kissed her again, lingering longer than their previous kisses. Emily rested her head back against his shoulder, snuggling into him. He picked up her hand from his chest, kissing her palm, and setting it back in the same spot, leaving his hand over hers. They both stared blankly out that tiny sliver of window until their eyes fluttered closed, oblivious to the sun slowly rising, brightening the sky.


End file.
